


That Night

by tomatopudding



Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatopudding/pseuds/tomatopudding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In “What You Own,” Mark and Roger ask the world “what was it about that night?” We assume that they mean Christmas Eve, but what if they’re thinking of a different night?</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Night

_What was it about that night_  
 _Connection in an isolating age_  
 _For once the shadows gave way to light_  
 _For once I didn’t disengage_

Roger Davis ran a hand through his short, bleached-blonde hair and tried to resist rubbing at his eyes - he hated having to redo his eyeliner right before a gig. He’d had a long night and then slept all day. It was just past six in the evening and he had woken up a mere hour previously. They weren’t even going on for another hour.

Roger’s band, the Well Hungarians, were all out back in the alley behind the club, probably sharing a cigarette. As a singer, Roger refrained from anything that would damage his lungs, like smoking. At least, he did before a gig. Besides just because he played gigs with the guys didn’t mean that any of them were his friends. Hell, he wasn’t really good friends with Collins, Benny, or Maureen and the four of them lived together.

Roger headed out into the main club and plopped down at the bar, signaling for a beer.

‘Oh my god,’ said a voice beside him, ‘You’re Roger Davis from the Well Hungarians!’

Roger sighed and turned left, coming face to face with the lens of an old camera. When the worn-out-looking machine was lowered, Roger didn’t see the face of a squealing fangirl. The guy couldn’t be more than nineteen. He had messy strawberry-blonde hair and big gray eyes behind black-framed glasses.

‘I’m Mark,’ the kid told him, bringing the old camera to his chest protectively, ‘I just came to the City a few months ago and I’ve seen all of your shows,’ he grinned, ‘I’m gonna be a film maker!’

‘Hate to burst your bubble, kid,’ Roger informed him gruffly, taking a pull from his bottle, ‘but dreams don’t exactly come true here, regardless of what people said in you little hick town.’

Roger felt bad almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth as the kid’s face fell.

‘Aw, come on, kid,’ he said quickly, ‘It’s not all bad here. I’ll get you a drink, if you like.’

‘I am twenty-one, you know,’ the cameraman told him softly and with slight chagrin, ‘And my name is Mark, not kid.’

Roger held up the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his beer up in surrender, making a wide-eyed expression and causing Mark to chuckle.

‘You were right about the hick town part,’ Mark conceded. 

‘Oh yeah? Where are you from, then?’

‘Scarsdale.’

‘Where?’

By the time Roger’s bandmates came to get the singer for their act, he and Mark were chatting away like old friends. There was just something about Mark that drew Roger to him. Something had simply sparked between them, a spark that grew the longer they talked.

‘Where are you staying?’ Roger asked as he stood, taking the last sip of his third beer.

Mark looked away, cheeks coloring slightly as he played with the little straw in his rum and coke.

‘Ah,’ Roger said understandingly. After a moment’s pause, he spoke again, ‘Hey, why don’t you wait for me here until the end of our set. You can come stay with me.’

Mark’s eyes widened and Roger laughed.

‘Nothing like that, man. I share a loft with a few other people. We had another guy, but he left a few weeks ago after Maureen broke it off with him. We’ve been looking for someone ever since.’

Mark grinned up at the singer, ‘Alright.’

Roger grinned back and ruffled Mark’s hair, eliciting a noise of annoyance from the slightly younger man. The filmmaker flipped Roger off jovially as the singer retreated through the crowd. Roger walked into the green room with significantly higher apirits that he had left it with.


End file.
